THE QUEST OF THE LITERARY SANGREAL
by Michael Hanson, © 2005

We have been told in the history of the Knights of The Round Table how that great prophet and enchanter Merlin sent a message to King Arthur by Sir Gawain, directing him to undertake the recovery of the Sangreal, The Holy Grail, the cup from which Jesus Christ reportedly drank at his last supper. It was believed that the Grail's presence conferred blessings upon the land in which it was preserved, making it a worthy prize indeed. Thus began one of the great quests of mythic literature.

My own simplistic and far less noble quest began in the late 1980's, when I started writing short stories, mostly science fiction and fantasy, and submitting them to every paying magazine I could find. In a few months my mailbox was flooded with rejections and I fell into melodramatic despair.

And then one day a wise and learned friend told me about an event in a far off land (Boston, MA), a gathering known as a "Science Fiction Convention," a seemingly magical realm where other pen-and-ink squires, like myself, could verbally joust and break bread in joyous fellowship.

I was also told that experienced professional writers (the veritable Warrior-Mages of the print world) would be attending this weekend festival. Surely they might provide the wisdom and knowledge I needed to breach the arcane walls of the foreboding and seemingly unscalable "Castle Buy-Your-Story."

Surely sitting in on the many author-panels and author-lectures at this Renaissance Cotillion would leave me blessed and cured of all my woes!

And so it was that I set out upon...

THE QUEST OF THE LITERARY SANGREAL!

For the sake of brevity, and your own sanity dear reader, I now put this landslide of Arthurian and Middle-Ages hyperbole to rest...

As the more cynical of you have no doubt surmised, guessed, and assumed, my naive hopes and dreams were readily and summarily beheaded.

Sitting like one of Plato's soul-starved pupils in the front row of several author panels, I scribbled furiously on my note pad every speck of knowledge, information, and pure unadulterated wisdom that these literary demigods could and would bestow upon me...sorry, got carried away for a moment there.

Lets just say I took a lot of notes and asked a few broad questions that were answered abruptly, simply, and, to my disappointment, with little or no detail.

I attended a reading where one well-known author chose one out of thirty short stories written by convention-goers (alas, my own work was not chosen) and read it aloud from beginning to end. He then invited us (the audience) to proceed to dissect said story.

The lady who wrote the piece (post-college, probably in her late 20's) became immediately defensive, going out of her way to vociferously rationalize and justify every single aspect of her story that was criticized or called into question. Her unimpeachable martyred stance was a true testament to stalwartness and downright pigheaded ignorance. She had proffered her unsold unreviewed work to the world, and then refused to even listen to its advice. As for the professional writer, he wisely kept his mouth shut and his opinions to himself throughout the short but spirited ballyhoo.

Afterwards, a little bummed out that I had not been quicker on the riposte to get my own short story into this professional writer's hands, my good friend who had accompanied me to this convention started pushing me and telling me to talk to this guy and try to get him to read my short.

My comrade-in-arms was a devotee of that line of irrationally optimistic reasoning that success in life was all about making contacts, and friends, and that some how, some way, by simply walking up to famous people, shaking their hands, and introducing yourself, you can quickly find yourself on the road to fame and riches...

I took this well-intended advice and quickly found myself babbling almost incoherently to this tired harried gray-haired gentleman writer who deftly deflected my proffered manuscript, and told me to keep up with the writing and submission of my work to as many different markets as possible, before making his graceful exit.

I left the conference room humbled and small. The fantasy that I had constructed in my mind, the wish-fulfillment daydream of my making contacts, getting my stories read, receiving reams of praise and approval for my many ideas and works-in-progress, had been crushed underfoot like an aged insect-sized dragon.

It was a long weekend, and by the end of it, I had grown up A LOT (I think I was 27 at the time).

I also gained a few kernels of wisdom. Maybe I just became more cynical. The jury is still out on this.

What I would now like to do is give a few suggestions and warnings to those beginner-writers attending their first sci-fi, fantasy, murder-mystery, children's fiction, or romance writers conference (and no, I really don't think that the majority of you are anywhere near as naive or wide-eyed as I was back in the time of INXS's Need You Tonight, Reagan's hand-off of the Presidency to George Bush Sr., and the lovable animation-reality crossover movie hit, Who Framed Roger Rabbit).

First of all do not lose hope, your quest is not for naught, though your journey be upon a road as dangerous and narrow as a razor's edge. The ancient arcane arts of the pen and scroll to this day reveal many wonders to the newbies and old-timers alike. Here is a little sage advice...

A writer writes. Don't waste other people's time bragging about all of your great ideas. Write them! The final written work will speak, and brag, for itself. It really is THAT simple.

Don't waste your money or your time attending writing conferences and/or science-fiction/fantasy conventions if your only intention is an unrealistic expectation of making instant contacts and/or sales. Also, nothing you hear at any "panel" is going to magically transform you into a fantastic writer.

With that said, yes, there is an upside to many of these conventions, workshops, and expos. If you go to them with an eye towards having fun and getting a few of your favorite writers' autographs, then it can certainly be money well spent.

"Conferences are a great place to go for community." According to writer Lee Kuruganti. "They are like a summer camp for writers. Nobody goes to camp to get rich and famous, you go to be enriched. On the plus side are the opportunities for meetings with publishers and literary agents."

Once you've completed your first couple of novels you will need someone to market/sell them to. More and more of these conferences sponsor such pitching sessions. Just remember, you need to have a "finished/polished" book in hand when doing so. Nobody wants to talk with an author about their unfinished book or their brilliant but just-conceived idea for a novel.

Lee goes on to remind us that "...there is the chance of being the first to hear the annual state of the industry report." What's in and what's out for a particular genre of writing. "The fan part is fun also - nothing like having drinks with one of your favorite authors."

However, if you have expectations of anything more than this, you are going to be sorely disappointed.

DON'T shove your short stories and/or poetry into the faces of successful writers at these events. They are neither agents nor publishers, and therefore are not in a position, or temperament, to read and review your brilliant work. And, assuming the one in one million chance that they do read your work, and even like it, the most you should expect from this is a pat on the head and the words "nice job."

It is NOT a successful writer's job or prerogative or responsibility to discover YOU. That is a fantasy of the imagination. Most successful writers spend decades to achieve a modicum of success. These people have neither the desire, nor the onus, to convene in your budding career and leapfrog you to the front of any submittal pile at any magazine or publishing house. And why should they? Nobody did for them.

Okay. Enough of the rotten fruit slinging. Lets get you out of that pillory.

What real lessons can we learn from all of this?

Writers' desires to improve themselves are normal natural emotions and nothing to be ashamed of. When panic and desperation enter into this equation, we writers find ourselves contemplating increasingly less rational avenues to literary success.

We join online round-robin reading circles full of individuals unnervingly focussed on narrow sets of subjective arbitrary standards that often are ignored or even nonexistent in the real world (the world of professional publishing).

We go to conferences and conventions which promise all manner of workshops that will help mold us into real writers, and end up ultimately deciding these group exercises are nothing more than self-serving advertisements created by a particular Convention's promoters to attract more paying conventioneers.

We purchase books on how to write successfully (while it never crosses our minds that the vast majority of folks who write these books are not and never will be successful writers. I guess they write but never actually read their own self-help advice).

And God forbid some of us even fall for the scam of paying so-called professional readers to review our work thinking that their seemingly professional critiques will show us how to do it right!

And what major weakness is it that compels us to do all of this?

It is a time-honored trait that we all share.

Laziness.

The desire to find a short-cut.

And it never works.

The Knights of the Round Table had to overcome great privations...hunger, exhaustion, temptation, and personal combat to reach their Sangreal.

Becoming a successful working writer is really no different. You MUST travel the gauntlet of time and effort, spending hours, days, weeks, months, and YEARS creating and rewriting stories, submitting them, and having oh so many of them rejected.

And then, only then, as your long painful tiring journey comes to its bittersweet end, can you reach out to grasp that illusive and brilliantly glowing golden prize...your first professional sale.

[Fortitudine Vincimus] - By Endurance We Conquer

 

THE END

Michael Hanson, a transplanted New Yorker, lives in New Jersey and  enjoys writing poetry, short stories, and the occasional essay. His most recent work has appeared in the Whortleberry Press anthologies "Livewire" and "Best of AstoundingTales.com," and the latest print issue of Paradox Magazine. His creation, the shared-world anthology "Sha'Daa: Tales of the Apocalypse" is due to hit bookstore shelves in 2006.

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